


On the graves, on the graves

by YourLastSuprise



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Garreg Mach Ball (Fire Emblem), M/M, Mentioned Miklan (Fire Emblem), Sylvain Jose Gautier Being An Idiot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-19
Updated: 2021-01-19
Packaged: 2021-03-17 10:48:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28847814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YourLastSuprise/pseuds/YourLastSuprise
Summary: Sylvain dances with a lot of girls, and he hates it.not a songfic i just put the lyrics there cuz its a very sylvain song me thinks
Relationships: Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier
Comments: 1
Kudos: 21





	On the graves, on the graves

Oh my girl, oh my girl

Just give a chance

I don't want to explain

I just want to dance

On the graves, on the graves

Of every girl

That I knew before you

That are dead to me too

If You Like it Or Not - The Brobecks

He takes her hand, and he takes another girl's hand, and another, and another, and another. A new girl for every song. He looks at them all the same, as if she’s the prettiest girl he’s ever laid his eyes on. He’ll act like she's the only girl he’s ever really fallen for, and then he’ll move on.

He wonders, is she acting too? 

Are they both wearing a mask? Hands intertwined, eyes locked on each other. Smiling at eachother, laughing as they sway around the room. It’s the perfect reenactment of teen romance, but he hates her. He hates all of them. He hates all of them and their perfect faces. Their combed out hair. Their smooth skin, their short dresses. 

He hates them.

But he offers his hand to another. 

Maybe he needs to feel loved, wanted, desired. Or maybe he’s just an asshole. 

The room is lively, voices echoing throughout the walls. The sound of soft chatter alongside the music and soft tapping of feet against the marble floors. He swears he sees Dedue silently judging him as he passes the taller boy, a girl on his arm yet again. 

Soon enough, their faces are starting to blend together. Every girl looks exactly the same to him, their voices the same pitch, their eyes the same color. But they like him. Or they're pretending to. And he likes that, he needs that. 

He hates them.

He needs them. 

He hates his crest. Would he be better off without it though? Or would he have turned into the same monster Miklan had turned into (not literally. It’s just hard to find words to describe an evil person without calling them what they are; a monster. It doesn’t help his brother had actually turned into a monster, it makes the comparison more confusing than it should be). He probably shouldn’t hate his crest, he was “special” for it. People would kill to have a crest. His own brother was disowned for not having one, so does Sylvain even have a right to wish he was born without one?

Is it too much to ask for a real romance? Where you lock eyes from across the room and fall in love, your hands brushing together for a moment that you replay in your head over and over. Where you can tuck a piece of their hair behind their ear and let your hand stay there, frozen in place as you look at them as if they’re the only person in the whole world. 

Sylvain has done those moves over and over, charming the newest girl with his flashy romantic gestures. It never lingers, and he can never remember which girl he did it to. 

Maybe it’s his own fault. He knows he’s the one who pursues the girls, who leads them into a false sense of hope that maybe he had finally fallen in love. 

It is his fault, most things are. Sylvain likes to talk about his problems as if he isn’t the cause of all of them, It should be counted as a hobby at this point. Thats the thing though, he knows he's the reason and he knows he can fix it. 

But he doesn’t. 

He doesn’t, and he sits in his own self pity and hatred until he is forced to stop. 

Sylvain looks down at the girl who he’s currently dancing with, who is staring at him with puppy eyes, her eyebrows knitted in worry. He had probably dropped his smile in the middle of that, he had forgotten he was even dancing. 

“Sorry.” He murmurs, his smile returning to his face, but not quite reaching his eyes.

It’s not like she would have noticed anyways. 

After that song, he steps away into the crowd, off the dance floor for the first time in a while. He leans on a wall, exhaling as he stares up at the ceiling. 

Has the ceiling always been so detailed? 

Sylvain feels a pair of eyes staring into his soul. Hello Felix. He looks down and isn’t surprised when he sees the dark haired boy looking at him with a critical eye. 

“Gonna ask me to dance?” He jokes, and Felix immediately scowls, leaning on the wall next to him and looking out at the room. 

“You’re insufferable.” Felix barks, and Sylvain laughs, stepping back into Felix’s field of view. 

“Hey, let’s get out of here. I need some fresh air.” He starts walking before Felix can decline, hearing a scoff and then footsteps behind him.

“I thought you loved this stupid thing. You know, since you can’t keep it in your pants.” He says as they walk out into the night, the cold air hitting Felix’s face as he stepped out into the courtyard. 

Sylvain chooses to ignore that comment. “Where have you been? I don’t think I’ve seen you all night.” He asks, looking over at the other boy.

“Training. I don’t have time for dancing.” He spits, arms crossed. 

“Then why did you come?” 

Felix looks up at the stars. 

It’s in that moment, the moonlight reflecting on his face, the muffled music coming from the building, and the peaceful sound of soft wind that Sylvain realizes he is in love. 

The type of love where you hold their hand underneath the table, where you have picnics in the middle of the night, where you whisper stupid shit into each other’s ears during classes and conversations. The love where you admire your best friend underneath the stars on a windy night. 

The love where nothing feels forced, and when you realize it's love you feel like a vase being destroyed and pieced back together perfectly. 

I love you. 

**Author's Note:**

> haha this has exactly 1000 words isnt that kinda funny


End file.
